


A Midnight Clear

by roxymissrose



Category: Smallville
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-06-04
Updated: 2011-06-04
Packaged: 2017-10-20 03:33:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,580
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/208310
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/roxymissrose/pseuds/roxymissrose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lex finally get what he wants from Clark</p><p>originally posted 12-23-2005</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Midnight Clear

A Midnight Clear

 _1 A Thrill Of Hope_

 _Lex dropped his head back against the window, the icy chill of the glass quickly warming under his skin. He sighed, a quiet wisp of a sound. He was tired—fucking bone tired. Tired of running around begging for support, fucking goddamn tired of trying to keep LexCorp afloat by the skin of his teeth and putting on a dog and pony show for every one that could possibly help—fuck, at this point he was willing to give a blowjob to anyone that would listen to his proposals. Smile, smile, smile and blah fucking blah endlessly...at least now he felt there was some possibility that he’d be able to keep his head above water, that his people would still be working after the holidays, that was all that mattered, more than beating his father at his own game._

 _Take care of the people who counted on you, he thought, and let his eyes slip closed. That was the bottom line. That’s what made a man, not what you piled up in the way of goodies, it was what effect you had on the world around you..._

He yawned. It was so warm and comfortable in the car. His eyesight blurred from exhaustion, his coat was soft and warm against his cheek....

He jerked awake, startled that he’d been drifting off without knowing it. Damn—he needed to get home before he passed out. He sat up and looked out through the windshield, into the dark, watched snowflakes dance in the headlight beams. “Shit,” he said aloud and cracked the car door, shivered as the chill air rushed inside. He got out and walked to the front of the car, fresh air might wake him up— he shivered down to his toes--freezing his nuts off definitely had to wake him...

He looked up into the sky and for a moment, was stunned. He kept his head pointed upwards into the dark as he walked and grinned at the feeling of vertigo. It reminded him of summer strangely, being a kid and playing on the lawn of their summer home—whirling ‘round and ‘round staring up into the star filled night, his mother laughing at his antics….

He leaned against the hood of his car, hands shoved deep into his pockets, collar pulled up around his ears, looked up into stars. Star and stars, so many bright points of light...the night went up and up and up into infinity.

“Clark, Clark,” he muttered to himself. “Which one of those did you come from and why...and why won’t you just tell me?” He sighed and pulled his coat tighter and a brush of air threw flakes against his cheek like a caress.

“Lex! Why are you standing here on the side of the road! It’s cold! And snowing,” he frowned. “You haven’t been…”

“No Clark,” he laughed lightly. “I’m not drunk or concussed. I’m–I’m just tired.” Lex didn’t even question that Clark was there. Why should he--every time he needed Clark, he was just there. Why should this night be different?

“Oh!” Clark’s eyes were immediately filled with sympathy. “Well, you can’t stay here. Come home with me please? We’re about to have dinner.”

Lex smiled. “Okay, yes. Clark?”

“Hmm?”

“Why were you out here? How did you come out here…there’s no truck.”

“Lex…” Clark’s eyes were full of disappointment but Lex wasn’t sure that it was directed at him.

“Sorry Clark, never mind, just get in the car; I’ll drop you off at home.”

“No.”

“No?”

“You know.” Clark looked scared and a little angry.

“What do I know Clark?” Lex felt his former good mood slowly evaporate, replaced again with the familiar feeling of angry hopelessness. “Please just get in the car Clark. I’m too tired to play games tonight.”

“See Lex—no one is playing games, no one ever played games…” his voice trailed off and then strengthened. “I’m not getting in the car unless you promise to come in the house.”

Lex looked stubborn, he felt stubborn. He was shaking his head no when Clark said, “I’m not a mutant.”

Lex sighed and closed his eyes. “All right. Twenty questions then?”

“I’m not human.”

Lex froze and kept his eyes shut, “Shut up, Clark. Right now.”

Clark started to speak, stung at Lex’s tone, but Lex reared up from his spot on the hood and clamped his hand over Clark’s mouth. “Don’t speak,” he whispered.

Clark’s eyes widened and Lex could feel his lips move under his hand. He felt the soft press of lips, the lips that sent him off to sleep almost nightly in his fantasies, against his palm and shivered. Clark’s eyes were boring into his. He reached up and peeled Lex’s hand off his mouth too easily and whispered, “You know that.”

Lex shook his head, not speaking, he felt the imprint of Clark’s mouth in his palm and curled his hand protectively, as if he could hold the feeling forever…

The snow fell thicker and he thought he could hear the wet flakes hitting the ground.

Clark whispered, “Can we please go home now?” His eyelashes were wet with snow, snow peppered his black hair.

Lex nodded, still not speaking and they got into the car. He looked at Clark and raised an eyebrow.

“Home.” Clark mouthed, and Lex drove to the farm.

 _2 A Weary World_

It was so quiet in the car that Lex was tempted to make noise, he reached for the radio and Clark covered Lex’s hand with his. Lex didn’t look at him but he slid his hand out from under Clark’s and sat back.

Clark unbuckled when they rolled to a stop at the end of the drive, but hesitated before climbing out.

Lex sat; let the car idle while he waited for Clark to get out. Green eyes caught his, brimming with a patient disappointment. “You promised.”

Lex sighed. Clark’s slow motion torture wasn’t over yet. He shut off the car and slid out to face the elements, and the Kents. Snow chased him to the porch, pulled cold talons across his bare scalp. He was too cold to even shiver and Clark was suddenly—around him, ushering him into the house. The heat warmed his nose and cheeks painfully fast—it took a moment or two to notice that the Kents were staring at him—fear, uncertainty, resignation…what had Clark done?

He stepped into the yellow and blue dining room, candles and lamplight glowing gold and amber and he felt like a harbinger of doom in his unrelieved black. He quickly unbuttoned his coat to display blue and instantly regretted it, he didn’t want to seem he took for granted they intended to invite him in.

Jonathan watched Lex unbutton his coat and whole series of expressions flitted across his face, cheeks colored and he finally stood and held out his hand. “Please join us for dinner, Lex. There’s plenty.” He hesitated for a long moment, looked at Clark and shook his head. “Come on Lex, sit down. Make yourself at home,” and he smiled. It looked real to Lex.

His chest clenched and his hand went flat against his thumping heart, he felt his cheek—oh shit, he was the Little Match Girl, he’d fallen asleep in the car and died, yes, that explained the perfect, perfect scene, a smiling Jonathan and Martha, Clark so close behind him, breathing on his neck. If he turned and looked at him, would he be crowned with a glowing halo? Before him the room was draped with evergreen and holly and plaid ribbons, the air smelt of pine and cinnamon, a Rockwell dinner steamed gently on the table…it was so fucking perfect it hurt.

Martha was watching his movements, his expression and her lips bowed in a little smile. “Come on Lex, there *is* plenty.” She held her hand out.

Clark curled hands around his shoulders, gently slid off his coat. Lex felt a chill race up his back, it was so intimate a move, so caressing he blushed, horribly, he blushed. Clark whispered over his shoulder, “Sit down—please.” He placed his very large warm hand on the small of Lex’s back and urged him to sit.

When Lex was settled in next to him, Clark unfolded a napkin and smoothed it dangerously over Lex’s lap. He leaned his head towards Lex and said clearly, quietly, “I’m very, very, very strong.” Lex stared at him, wide eyed and lips frozen together. Clark moved his hand over the tabletop, held his closed fist over Lex’s hand under the table and dropped a spoon, bent into a perfect warm circle that Lex caught in his numb fingers.

Jonathan watched nervously and Martha seemed shocked but underneath it all, a strange expression of resignation settled on both their faces.

He held the rapidly cooling spoon and looked up in wonder at the seated, calm Kents. _I’m still alive._

 _3 New And Glorious Morn_

Dinner was long and quiet, relaxed. Clark explained that they rarely ate this late, but with last minute shopping and catching up on other chores, dinner had been delayed. Lex nodded, he was enjoying it. He didn’t find the time so strange—when he remembered to eat at all, it was often very late in the evening. In fact, he hadn’t eaten so well in a long time—having the cook reheat everything five or six times really did affect the quality of the food as she pointed out time and again.

The wine was also good, and even though it was domestic—something he never heard of and wasn’t likely to again--it was rather tasty and there was lots and lots of it. Whenever his glass was empty one of the Kents filled it.

After another generous refilling, he lifted the glass and held it to the light, admiring the way it sparkled in shades of ruby, washed the sides of the glass in rose as he swirled it to watch the liquid dance, and he smiled…a different memory of childhood bloomed in his mind, he was at a formal dinner, sitting next to his mother, she was holding a long stemmed glass filled with a deep burgundy liquid in her hand, and he held a smaller, pinker glass. A little wine had been splashed into his glass and sparkling water poured over that. What was important to him wasn’t the taste of the wine, it was that he looked like the grown-ups holding his little goblet, had been noticed and treated a little less like a baby…he laughed as he remembered the pride he’d felt, the fascination as his father poured a bit more wine and explained a bit about it…those days had been so different....

Music played softly in the background, Christmas carols, any other time they made Lex grit his teeth but he found himself humming and Martha smiled and hummed along and then began to sing in a clear light voice, “Oh hear the angel’s voices…” Lex thought it was really quite pleasant and was pleasantly surprised when Jonathan’s rougher voice joined in. Lex smiled at Clark, waiting, and the boy laughed and shook his head. Lex shrugged and sipped at his really delicious glass of wine and listened to the Kents sing together. He hummed along to the familiar song, eyes closed, warm and content and felt his mother's hand on his—he sang this every holiday with his mother, he knew the words. They came to his lips so easily and flowed out “…Night divine, o holy night, oh night divine…” he sang along quietly, more to himself, the dark behind his lids comforting and safe.

He opened his eyes and saw the Kents smiling at him, more than that, felt the weight on his hand, Clark’s curled around his.

 _Oh god, I’m drunk and pawing Clark in front of his parents._ His eyes went to the gun cabinet on the far side of the living room. The lone shotgun was present so for the moment he should be safe. He froze again, _God! I’m drunk and singing Christmas carols…._

“Lex.” Clark said, and Lex steeled himself for another bizarre confession from Clark, though under the influence of Yorkshire pudding, beef and gravy and awful lot of wine, he was beginning to think it was less a slow torture and maybe an alien idea of courting. Clark squeezed his hand gently and asked if he wanted desert.

 _oh, yes, so much_. He nodded, “Yes, please, and may I have more wine?”

 _4 The Light_

Clark coaxed Lex back to the loft with him after dessert; the walk over from the house was short but full of adventure. Hand crafted leather soles met new fallen snow with a result entirely devoid of surprise.

Lex thought the sky looked even more stunning this way, flat on his back and staring up into an endless sea of black velvet, scattered with diamonds…the moon was eclipsed in beauty by Clark’s brilliant smile hanging over him.

Or, to be more precise, Clark’s laughter.

“Lex, wow—are you okay? I turned around and you were gone--”

Lex laughed up at the swooping, swirling stars. His hands flew out of their own accord and cashmere clad arms swept wings into the snow.

Clark laughed harder and dropped on his knees, straddling Lex, cradling his head in his hands. ”Get up before you freeze to death, Lex!”

He lay between Clark’s spread knees and snickered, throat too parched with the cold air to laugh, and suddenly he threw his arms around Clark’s neck, and kissed him.

It wasn’t a deep kiss, not a romantic kiss—more like a kiss between old lovers, very close friends, fond and sweet and not very heated…

Except it broke Lex’s heart. He ruined everything. Clark was going to leave him here to freeze alone in the snow and it was all his fault. His emotional control continued to erode—he let a tear slip out from under his lashes. _I deserve to die—I’m so drunk. So stupid._

Clark kissed him back. And without a word, lifted him from the snow, brushed his coat clean, wiped the flakes from his head, turned him around and kissed him lightly again. Saved, at least for the moment.

The cold began to seep into his bones, the warm glow that had fueled his joy and his anguish began to fade, with every breath, he felt his lungs turning to crystal. His scalp burned, he walked a little faster, trotting up the loft stairs.

Clark shook his head, trotted after him. “You know Lex; I did offer you my hat.”

Lex stumbled, for a moment he’d heard Clark say ‘heart’... “Clark, it was red and blue and had tassely earflaps.”

Clark smiled. “Is tassely a word?”

“It is tonight, Clark.” Lex struggled to look stern, Clark smiled wider. He stopped Lex before they went into the barn.

“Lex, if it’s too cold, we can go back to the house.”

Lex shook his head. He wanted to be alone with Clark---he had to know just what was going on—Clark gave him secrets, held his hand, well, he patted his hand but it could have been hand holding if he wanted to see it that way. He’d kissed him! Or kissed him back. It was like… passing a test you weren’t sure you were taking.

At the top of the stairs, Clark switched on the loft light and Lex wandered over to the telescope. He looked in the eyepiece and was surprised; it wasn’t pointed where he thought it’d be… the scope was trained on the night sky, far overhead.

“I’ve been thinking a lot lately about where I come from,” Clark said as he plugged in a space heater. From the dust on its surface it was plain to see Clark rarely if ever used it. He caught the direction of Lex’s gaze and said, “I don’t get cold really, feel--” he held his hand out to Lex—it was warm, and smooth, smoother then it should be. Clark kept his hand and led him to the couch.

“A few days ago—I had a fight. With my mom and dad. About you.” His eyes looked pleadingly at Lex, begging him to understand what he was saying. “I told them—I told them there had to be an end to the lies. You’re tired?” He laughed, a dry snap of sound. “God, I’m tired too. I don’t want to lie to you anymore.”

Lex sighed. “Clark, I understand why you had to lie, I understand the danger having the truth known puts you in, your parents—but it hurts it took you so long to trust me. Didn’t I do my best to show you I could be trusted?” _couldn’t you tell I love you_

Lex got up from the couch and walked over to the stairs. “Well, as they say, it’s been a long, strange trip--thank you for finally telling me, I appreciate it, I really do. And let your parents know that none of you will ever have anything to fear from me—you never did.”

“Lex…wait.”

He felt a breeze and was alone.

He looked around the loft and whispered, “Clark, where are you, Clark.” He didn’t get an answer, he wasn’t expecting one. He leaned back against the railing, humming the carol he’d sung earlier, drumming his fingers on the rail. One minute more and then he was going back to the house, he’d drive back home. Or walk. Walking would be nice, give him time to forget, to build new walls….

Some change in the air caught his attention and there was Clark, cheeks red, but not from cold, a little line of sweat dampening his hairline and a snow ball in his hand.

No, not a snowball—

“Here.” He put the white rose with its broken stem in Lex’s hand; a few drops clung to the petals.

“It was raining on the coast. The west coast. I’m very… fast.”

“Fast?” Lex laughed, and it felt like he couldn’t stop. Clark stepped forward and cupped his face.

“Don’t,” he said and kissed Lex’s laughing mouth. Teeth clicked, lips slid together, and slowly the kiss softened, became warmer, slowly wetter, closer, Lex heard moaning from far away, moaning, words, pleas for help and he threw his arms around Clark, “Clark, save me—“

They were pressed together from forehead to toe, Lex reveled in the heat that radiated from Clark…Clark rolled his hips against Lex, made him moan and spread his legs so Clark could settle between them.

Time spun away, it felt like hours, days, Lex felt like he was drowning, gasping for breath and it felt wonderful, it felt like waking up on the riverbank all over again and this time, he wouldn’t have to let go. His arms tightened around Clark’s shoulders and he begged him to stay there.

“I promise, we’ll never be alone again. We belong to each other forever and ever….” His eyes filled Lex’s vision, until all he saw was soft green, and all he heard was forever, all he felt was heat….

 _5 Night Divine_

Clark smiled at him all the way back to the house, blushed sweetly when his mom asked if he was okay. Lex just…smiled.

Over coffee Clark talked about what made Christmas special for him, and Lex tried not to compare Clark’s vision of warm family times with the icy restrained exchange of gifts carefully selected by whoever the housekeeper was that year. The talk came round to trees, and Jonathan asked Clark if he was going to get the tree in the morning, but Clark said no, he and Lex were going to get the tree that evening. Lex was surprised—“We are?”

“Sure, it’s fun, that strip of woods that borders the fields; we get our tree from there. Dad and I bring a thermos of cocoa and we look until we find the best tree and then we cut it ourselves. Yes Lex, believe it or not, not every one has fully decorated trees delivered to their doors.”

Jonathan begged off of the tree excursion, “It’s almost eleven, Clark—tramping about the woods in the dark is for the young. Go with him Lex. Make sure he doesn’t do anything dangerous. To the woods.” He grinned, Clark laughed, and Lex laughed along with him.

Martha looked at Lex’s boots skeptically, at his thin leather gloves and shook her head. “Lex can’t go into the woods like that, Clark. Not unless you intend to carry him all the way.”

He blushed again. “I kind of like that idea,” he smiled.

Lex waited for Jonathan to sprint to the gun cabinet and sent a brief regretful prayer skyward, heartily sorry he wouldn’t have a chance to touch Clark again.

Jonathan colored a bit himself and coughed, offered Lex a pair of his boots. “Those are mighty nice boots you’re wearing but fifteen minutes in the woods and they’ll be toast.”

Lex nodded, dazed by the Kent’s concern and generosity, _I’m in a dream, this can not be real—_

 

They were in the strip of woods that Clark promised would disgorge a tree--the perfect Christmas tree. Lex snuck a look at the totally absorbed young man, intent on his mission. Clark Kent, farm boy, high school student, the center of his world. The boy who made him do things he’d never dream of in sane society, but out here in the ass end of nowhere, these things seemed perfectly logical, even necessary.

The snow scrunched and squeaked under their footsteps. For once in his life Lex actually wore boots. Real boots, great heavy fur lined rubber soled, man-made uppers type of things, instead of the confections of handmade leather with whisper soft soles that until today he’d thought were boots. It didn’t seem to snow like this in the city, and in the city everything was a step or two from the door of an idling limo to the door of a toasty warm lobby.

But here he was, walking in Jonathan’s boots--and he still could barely comprehend it—in the dark, the light of the moon reflecting from the whitest, most unblemished snow he’d ever seen. It was postcard perfect and freezing cold, he was positive his nose was bright red, certain it was an unattractive look for him--unlike Clark, whose nose was pink and adorable, his cheeks were rosy and his lips were…Lex reached into his pocket and arranged himself subtly and forced himself to think about trees.

Scrunch squeak, scrunch squeak, and under it he could hear Clark humming that Christmas carol. It was all so fucking wholesome a scene that the cynical side of him, the side that never slept, wanted to laugh and the side that rarely woke, the one that still waited for Santa to eat the cookies, felt like crying for something he’d lost so terribly young, a certain something that Clark still seemed to have despite the shadows he always lived with.

The silence stretched on as they crunched their way through fresh snow, not an unpleasant activity, but eventually Lex asked, “Clark, this tree…is Santa making it for you?”

Clark laughed, his breath a visible cloud and he turned sparkling eyes to Lex. “It’s our Christmas tree. It’s got to be prefect, Lex. I’ll know it when I see it.”

“Well, how will you know,” Lex asked and pointed out a huge pine. “Look at this one, it’s big and…big.”

“But that’s why it’s no good—too big, and we’d have to cut and cut to fit it in the house.” Clark shook his head, but not unkindly. He understood that Lex was deprived of a normal upbringing as a result of being raised in The City.

Lex frowned and pointed out another. “What about this one?”

“Lex—that’s a Charlie Brown tree.”

Lex would rather have danced naked in the snow than ask Clark what a Charlie Brown tree was; obviously it was something he should know.

He pointed out another tree, and Clark found something wrong with it, and another, and Clark found something wrong with it. Finally pride be damned, he turned to Clark and laid a leather gloved hand on his arm, the cashmere lining of the glove doing nothing to keep his fingers from feeling like they were turning into frozen glass, and tried to keep the whine out of his voice when he said, “Clark, my head…is freezing.”

He must have looked miserable, even if he tried desperately to sound unconcerned, because Clark’s mouth turned into an O of dismay, and he immediately apologized and kindly refrained from reminding Lex he’d been offered a lovely warm red and blue hand knit cap, with of course, earflaps and decorative tassels. Lex could hardly believe that he’d turned down the privilege of wearing Clark’s cap twice, and now he was mentally kicking himself fiercely. With any luck he’d kick himself into a coma, at least he’d be unaware of freezing to death cell by cell…he looked up into Clark’s concerned face and thought, it’ll be a lovely way to go….

Clark jerked forward and laid his enormous wool clad hands on Lex’s head. “Let me warm you up for a moment,” and before Lex could speak, the mitten was over his mouth and nose. It might be a terrifically undignified look, but he was instantly, magically, warmer than he had been. He was surrounded, drowning in the smell of mint and wool and an oddly comforting grassy smell he realized was Clark…and then Clark was pulling off the baggy mittens and cradling Lex’s head in his bare hands, his huge hands, and they were so warm he couldn’t fight down the groan that leaked out of his clenched teeth.

He opened his eyes, wondered when he’d closed them, to see Clark’s contented smile.

Lex looked at him and said, “My face is cold,” and Clark said, “Oh” and pressed his cheek against Lex’s. God, the boy was warm, so warm, it flooded every bit of Lex, and right on cue, as a sigh eased out of him, Clark turned his cheek until his mouth rested on Lex’s in a kiss, chaste and dry as a nun’s—but a still, a kiss.

He pulled back, and stammered out an apology. Lex groaned, “Oh god Clark, tell me you’re not apologizing for kissing me, not now—and for gods sake don’t move your hands!”

“You—you don’t mind? I’m not being pushy?”

“Pushy? When I’ve been waiting for you to do that since forever, and--and an hour? Of course, I pictured much less frostbite the next time we kissed.”

Clark smiled slowly and with the same look in his eyes that Lex wanted to believe he had when he saw Santa. “It’s so wonderful to be able to kiss you when I want.” He blushed deeply and looked over Lex’s head,” And…other things…”

Lex nodded carefully so as not to dislodge Clark’s hands, his personal furnace. “It is—it will be every time...”

Clark smiled from ear to ear, his eyes sparkling and outshining the stars above his head. He kissed Lex again, and Lex thought, what a clever, smart, wonderful, quick learner Clark was, as waves of warmth swept him from his no longer aching head to his no longer stinging toes.

Clark pulled back and licked his lips, looking at Lex in a way that was mildly possessive and normally would make Lex pull back but now, only made him a little hard. Clark’s eyes flew wide, and he whipped Lex around to see _god, his dad came to his senses--I’m dead_ a tree.

“Oh, Lex—it’s prefect, see! I knew we’d find it,” and big arms folded around his chest, and his chin dropped to Lex’s shoulder. “Perfect,” his boy breathed.

It was a pine and as far as Lex could see, no different than any of the other pestilential pines or firs or spruces he’d pointed out that evening but…”Perfect.” Lex echoed and leaned back against Clark.

“Merry Christmas, Clark” he said. And Clark kissed the top of his head.

 _6 O’er the world_

Lex helped Clark decorate the tree, Martha provided cocoa and cookies, Jonathan provided critical commentary and in a short time the tree was declared perfect—“The best tree we’ve ever had,” Clark beamed at Lex. The room lights were turned off, and the tree glowed white and blue and gold in the darkness—Lex was spellbound—it was nothing like any tree he’d ever had in his life, it was beautiful, as if a piece of the night sky had manifested in the Kent living room. He stood looking at it for a very long time, holding Clark’s hand and feeling…blessed.

He smiled to himself. An unusual feeling to say the least.

Lex watched Clark and his parents laugh and talk and tease each other and thought to himself, _this is what people do who love each other; they get joy from each other’s pleasure._ It was just that simple and just that amazing and he had to wait twenty-three years to experience the truth of it. He felt a warm hand on his shoulder and looked to find Martha smiling at him. “Welcome home, hon.”

He was too old and too cynical to cry, so he contented himself with patting her hand.

After a bit, Jonathan and Martha stood-- finally the evening was over, midnight long passed, goodnights were said and promises to come together again soon.

“Alone at last.” Clark heaved a sigh, and hugged Lex to him. “I don’t want you to leave, I can barely bring myself to let you go. But it’s time.”

Lex nodded, he felt happy but tired, so incredibly tired. The exhaustion that made him pull his car over on the road was back, but at least now it wasn’t paired with despair. A wooly feeling of fatigue filled him, made his limbs light as air. Clark smiled. “Let me take you home.” He swept a blanket off the couch and held it out to Lex.

Lex looked at Clark and the heavy fur lined blanket askance.

“Clark, doesn’t the truck have heat, I mean we could risk taking the Porsche--”

“I’m taking you home—the Clark express. Lex…I can--”

Lex held his hand up, “Clark, are you about to tell me you can fly? “

Clark nodded mutely.

“Oh well, it is before breakfast, isn’t it.” At Clark’s puzzled look he shook his head and laughed, “Never mind, my mind is wandering…I guess I’m ready,” Lex sighed.

Clark wrapped the blanket around Lex’s shoulders, and they walked outside. The sky was turning the strange not-color of the part of dawn that existed right before the end of night and before the actual break of day, the hour in which anything feels possible, where the magic hides--when the whole world holds its breath and waits for the coming of a miracle, the rebirth of the sun.

Clark wrapped Lex round, pulled him against him. Hide your face, hold on, and remember I love you. and they were standing on the ground and in the next breath soaring above it.

Lex pressed his face into Clark’s throat and clutched at him. Clark dropped kisses on his head and soothed him, assured him he was safer in his arms than anyplace he could be on earth.  
They went higher and higher and Lex was filled with a euphoria that made him throw his head back and laugh into the brightening sky.

 _They dipped and swooped in the air, chased clouds, and Lex mock-scolded Clark for showing off. The sky was showing streaks of salmon and lavender, and there was a glow on the horizon that promised the sun…as they sailed over the river, past the bridge, activity caught his eye. Lex called out, Looks like someone’s in trouble down there—a car. Do you want to stop?_

 _Clark shook his head. They don’t need our help, and Lex could see vehicles and flashing lights…_

 _You should fly higher, it’s getting lighter…_

 _They won’t see us. Clark rolled lazily in the air, turning them so Lex lay on his chest, his legs locked around his, one hand out of the blanket and twisted in Clark’s shirt. Eyes closed, cheek warmed by Clark’s body heat, he listened to the steady thump of his heart, felt it beat against his cheek. This was all he needed, all he’d ever looked for._

 _He yawned and twisted Clark’s shirt tighter. Clark, why did you fall in love with me?_

 _Clark kissed him, and he yawned again. Clark, why tell me the truth now?_

 _Clark kissed him again. Shh. So many questions. Go to sleep…_

 _Lex nodded and yawned again, pushed his head beneath Clark’s chin. Will there be cookies in the morning? he asked sleepily._

 _Yes, baby._

 _He sighed, content. Can we leave the lights on all night?_

 _Yes, baby._

 _Will you be there in the morning?_

 _A warm hand pushed the curls back from his forehead and kissed his cheek. Every morning, forever._

Fin 12-24-2005


End file.
